


Fish, Please!

by sleepdeprivedwriter



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Camping, Enemies to Lovers, Fishing, M/M, Team Bonding, Thomas Jefferson has anxiety, it's like summer camp but they're adults and they hate it, washingdad is done with this bullshit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:55:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25279612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepdeprivedwriter/pseuds/sleepdeprivedwriter
Summary: Fed up with the feuding between his best two lawyers, Washington decides that enough is enough. The solution: a company-wide retreat hosted at a summer camp upstate. Between the terrible team-building exercises, a doomed fishing excursion, and their boss' disappointment, perhaps Alexander Hamilton and Thomas Jefferson will see past their differences.Then again, maybe not.
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/Thomas Jefferson, past Alexander Hamilton/Elizabeth "Eliza" Schuyler - Relationship
Comments: 79
Kudos: 235





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> like many, after watching the disney+ pro-shot i'm back on my hamilton bullshit lmao. i have quite a few more ideas i'm looking forward to writing for hamilton, so stay tuned!
> 
> not quite sure how many chapters this will end up being but it shouldn't be too long. 
> 
> anyway, enjoy!!
> 
> p.s. yes the title is supposed to be a pun using the phrase "bitch please" ..... i'm disappointed in myself too

In Alexander’s defence, the fact that the company retreat even happened in the first place was totally Jefferson’s fault.

No one - Alexander included - could deny that his relationship with Jefferson had always been.... on the frostier side, one might say. One might also say that there was hardly a moment when the men weren’t at each other’s throats and it made for a somewhat uncomfortable working environment for the rest of the employees at Washington & Adams law firm. For most people, it was easy enough to ignore. Yes, there were occasions when meetings got out of hand and what should have been a simple discussion had turned into the two lawyers screaming at each other while George Washington sat at the head of the boardroom table rubbing his temples and looking on the brink of early retirement. However, as displeased as Washington was at his two best lawyers' hatred of each other, it was manageable.

That is, until a meeting over the company’s financials had turned too sour to be overlooked. Long story short, it ended with Hamilton’s coffee mug smashed to bits on the ground and Burr and Madison restraining Hamilton and Jefferson, respectively. It was at that moment that Washington realized he was going to have to take action about the duo’s negative impact on the office environment of the firm. 

A long weekend retreat upstate for some team-building exercises was the solution Washington had come up with, he informed his staff as they were nearly done for the day. 

“Before you ask, yes, it is mandatory, Alexander,” Washington looked pointedly at the young man who grumbled under his breath at the announcement. Jefferson looked equally distraught on the opposite side of the room they’d been called into. . 

Three whole days with Thomas fucking Jefferson in the middle of the goddamn woods. Alexander was ready to leave the office in order to step out into oncoming traffic when Angelica elbowed him and gave him a knowing look. _Behave_ , it said. He sighed to himself, he’d been through worse.

“One final thing: There will be no electronics of any sort on the trip.” An expected sea of grumbles filled the room. “There’s a landline at the camp facilities. Any contact with families or the likes can be done through that.” Washington nodded with a stern confidence at his employees before dismissing the group. “Hamilton,” Alexander looked up. “A word.” 

Angelica snorted and waved goodbye to her former brother-in-law before leaving him alone with their boss. The two men walked down the vacant hallway.

“Son,” he began.

“Not your son,” Alexander mumbled under his breath. Washington chose to ignore it. 

“Son, I know you and Jefferson have had your issues in the past, but for the sake of the firm’s functionality I’m going to have to ask you to set a positive example on this retreat.” 

Alexander groaned and Washington did not look at all bemused. “Sir, you know as well as I do that that is near impossible.”

“Near impossible implies that there is some hope still, is that not correct?” Washington smirked slightly.

“My apologies, sir. It is _entirely_ impossible.”

Washington sighed and after a long moment simply patted Alexander twice on the shoulder before leaving him alone. Alexander retreated back to his office, fantasizing about Jefferson getting poison ivy or something on this stupid team-building excursion as he finished up his work for the night. 

He was interrupted by his phone buzzing. 

_Betsey <3: Angelica told me about your team retreat lmao yikes. Dinner tonight w/ me and Ange? _

Alexander smirked slightly at the message. Despite the divorce, he and Eliza had managed to maintain as close of a friendship as was appropriate. The divorce had been mutual, after all. They’d been too young, he thought. While his former father-in-law would never understand, Alexander still considered Eliza’s sisters to be his own.

_Ham-burgular: Chinese good with you two? I can pick it up on the way over._

Alex’s friends were all too aware that dinner dates were the only way to ensure that a)  
Alex left the office and b) he actually has food, so more nights than not Alexander would receive a text from at least one of his friends wondering if he wanted to meet up. It was nice that they cared, but he was a grown man and in Alexander’s opinion it was completely unnecessary.

_Betsey <3: Perfect :) See ya soon. _

Alexander reluctantly put his laptop in his bag and grabbed his coat and scarf. Thirty-six minutes later he was being buzzed up to his ex-wife’s apartment, chicken fried rice in hand.

“You know, we actually used to go to summer camp at the place you guys will be staying at.” Eliza mentioned as Alex absentmindedly pushed his chow mein around on his plate. 

“Oh, really?” He didn’t mean to sound quite so disinterested, but his mind was elsewhere.

“Every summer,” Angelica added. “That’ll be sort of nice, I guess. The nostalgia of it.” Alexander didn’t say anything and the sisters glanced at each other. “That is, if you and Jefferson manage to go 72 hours without chucking ceramics at each other’s heads.”

“For the record, it didn’t hit him.” Alexander scowled. 

“Oh, I know. If it had, maybe the argument would have actually ended there instead of going on for another twenty minutes,” Angelica rebutted. 

Alexander let out a theatrical groan and Angelica rolled her eyes.

Eliza gave his arm a squeeze and, with perhaps too much faith, asked: “Alex, it’s barely three days. How bad can it really be?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed the (admittedly quite short) first chapter, 2nd should be up later today or tomorrow (and will be longer)! 
> 
> next up: arriving at camp is (somehow) less pleasant than expected.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoy this next chapter :)
> 
> next one should be up tomorrow!

Friday was supposed to be a good day. Usually, it was the last day of work before the weekend, meaning that the majority of the office was in a fairly good mood. On Fridays, James would come over to Thomas’ apartment and would let Thomas ramble on about office gossip or politics or French literature as he made his mother’s mac ‘n’ cheese recipe and James read the news. They would watch _The West Wing_ and get respectfully tipsy as they ate their pasta in Thomas’ living room. The tradition had started in college shortly after they’d met and was still going strong ten years later.

This Friday, however, was not a good day. For starters, Thomas had to wake up at the ass-crack of dawn in order to then be crammed onto a bus with his revolting co-workers. Washington had insisted that travelling to the camp together would help to become more comfortable with each other as a group outside of work. Washington then proceeded to immediately pass the fuck out for the entire ride, blissfully ignoring the chaos happening around him. 

They had driven across nearly the entire state when they’d finally arrived at the worn down summer camp. An overly peppy woman greeted them as they stepped off the bus, introducing herself as the camp/retreat manager. Thomas could feel the migraine blooming at the back of his head already. This was going to be an excruciatingly long three days. 

A questionably thick package was handed out to each staff member which included the room arrangements, itinerary, camp rules, and approximately 30 pages on the “importance” of team-building. As Thomas flipped through the pages he got increasingly annoyed. 

“Sir!” Thomas could hear his rival squawk. “The room arrangement is a joke, right?” _Oh, fuck._ Thomas searched his pamphlet for that page with urgency, scanning for his name and hoping that Hamilton’s indignation wasn't due to the reason he thought it was.

“Not a joke, Hamilton.” Thomas could hear his boss say in the background.

Thomas’ fears were confirmed. In the middle of the list sat his surname, revoltingly connected to Hamilton’s with a treasonous hyphen.

“Tom, you alright?” James Madison’s voice sounded all too amused by the whole ordeal. 

“Just peachy,” he spat out. 

Thomas marched up to where Washington and Hamilton stood with Hamilton ranting about Thomas’ supposed character faults and Washington appearing to ignore him. “Mr. Washington, I’d like to switch rooms.”

“Ditto!” Hamilton irritatingly chimed in. 

Washington looked between the two men. “There’ll be no switching.” 

“You can’t be serious, sir. You can’t do this to me!” At this point, Hamilton was making a scene, but what else is new?

“Alexander,” Washington raised an eyebrow at him and he shut up. “Besides,” a troublesome smile crept up onto the corner of his mouth, “it appears that, for the first time, the two of you are in agreeance about something.” 

With that he walked away, leaving the lawyers to glare at each other. Hamilton quickly stormed off in Angelica Schuyler’s direction. Thomas didn’t mean to stare, but realized he was doing so at Angelica’s half-confused half-amused wave to him.

Thomas quickly turned in the opposite direct, taking a deep breath to compose himself.

“Unbelievable,” Thomas grumbled as he hoisted his leather weekend bag onto the tiny bottom bunk. Hamilton glared at him, which Thomas returned. 

He sat on the cracked vinyl mattress which, for some godforsaken reason, felt sticky. Thomas grimaced to himself and Hamilton sped up the wooden ladder of the bunk. Thomas felt a foot collide with the side of his face and he yelped.

“What the fuck, Hamilton?”

“Oh, sorry. Guess my foot slipped,” Hamilton said in a tone that implied his foot clearly did not slip. 

“Whatever,” Thomas stood up. Glancing at his bag, he looked at Hamilton with suspicion. “Don’t touch my stuff.”

“What? Afraid the _dirty little immigrant_ is gonna root through your silk boxers?” Hamilton sneered at him and Thomas huffed.

“Washington wants us to all meet at the flagpole in five minutes,” Burr poked his head into the cabin to relay. Out of the corner of his eye, Thomas could see Hamilton roll his eyes and he had to agree with the man there. The whole trip was incredibly juvenile, not to mention a waste of time. 

“C’mon, guys,” Burr continued, “aren’t you looking forward to our first group bonding activity?” 

“Oh, I’m over the moon,” Thomas remarked and Hamilton and Burr both snorted. At least the staff had solidarity in their misery.

The same woman from before greeted them as they approached the area surrounding the flagpole. The flagpole was located on an open grass field with the path down to the lake on the edge of it. The dense forest surrounded the other edges of the field and there was a trail through the woods leading back to the cabins and another to the dining hall. Thomas held his hand up to his forehead to shield his eyes from the blindingly bright sun. Despite the sun beaming, it was still cold and somewhat windy.

“Welcome, campers!”

“Campers? That’s going to get annoying fast…” Hamilton muttered quietly. 

“That ship has already sailed,” Thomas quipped without thinking. Hamilton glanced at Thomas with a puzzled expression before shaking his head and turning back away from him. Thomas frowned. 

“Our first activity this weekend is an exercise called the Truth Train. It helps to foster harmony and honesty!” 

“Oh, god,” Hamilton bumped elbows with Angelica. Thomas, on his other side, snickered quietly and Hamilton shot him an amused smirk.

“In a circle, we’re going to go around and tell the person on our right something we like about them and something we dislike about them.”

 _Oh, for fuck’s sake._ On Jefferson’s right was Burr and to his left was Hamilton, of course. He looked across the circle to meet George Washington’s eyes. The man glanced between him and Hamilton and exhaled in what sounded like pain. 

The exercise went predictably terrible. Lee had told one of the receptionists she needed to lose weight which, understandably, made her cry. Adams was called “an embarrassment to Washington’s good name” by one lawyer, after which Washington quickly stepped in to disagree with in order to maintain the peace. Feelings were hurt and the entire group was disgruntled before it even got to be Hamilton’s turn to insult, or “bond with,” Jefferson. 

Angelica had told Hamilton she admired his intelligence and persistence and she disliked the fact that he didn’t know when to “shut the fuck up, pardon my French, Mr. Washington.” Hamilton hadn’t been offended, coming from her it was valid. Hamilton puffed out his chest as he turned to face Jefferson. 

He looked him up and down with an intrigue that made Thomas incredibly uncomfortable. It was as if Hamilton was searching for a crack in Thomas’ exterior before pouncing on it and exploiting it for his own sick enjoyment. Hamilton’s eyes focused on his suede deep purple jacket.

Hamilton cleared his throat. “I like that you haven’t let your wealth have any effect on your sense of fashion.” 

Thomas’ eyes narrowed and Washington loudly cleared his throat. 

“Would you like my reasons for disliking you chronologically or alphabetically ordered?” 

“Alexander, that’s enough-” Washington tried to interrupt before Hamilton cut him off.

“I dislike what an uptight, pompous prick you are, for starters. I dislike your Southern entitlement especially,” Alexander became more heated, “I dislike the fact that everyone in the office has to smell your mac ‘n’ cheese _wafting_ out of your office every single day. I dislike that you’ve probably never held a working class job in your life. I dislike practically every single one of your political and legal opinions, as you know. I dislike that I have to work with such a pretentious, piece of sh-”

“That’s enough!” Washington bellowed at the same time as Thomas finally snapped. 

“Hamilton, you’re an obnoxious little troll who talks out of his ass and wouldn’t know the meaning of humility if it smacked you on the back of your greasy head.”

“Oh, fuck you, Jefferson,” Hamilton shook his head, as if he wasn’t the one who started reaming Thomas out. 

“I’d like to see you try,” Thomas spat out and Hamilton’s head shot up to look at him in shock. Thomas knew he probably wore a similar expression. He didn’t know where that came from.

“I think we’re done with the Truth Train,” Washington announced bitterly. “You’re all welcome to do what you please until one o’clock when we will meet up here for our next activity.” 

The group dispersed and Washington quietly added, “Which will hopefully be less of a shitshow than this was.” 

Thomas spotted James and the two friends nodded at each other before walking off. 

Alexander, still grumbling, begins to head back to their cabin when Washington’s voice stops him. 

“Alexander, come here please.”

He slowly turns around to see his boss standing there with his arms crossed.

“What the hell was that about?”

“I was only being _honest_ , as the game required.”

“The _harmony-building exercise_ was intended to-”

“Build harmony?” Alexander snarked.

“It was intended to bring us all together and to accept each other’s strengths _and_ flaws, as I’m sure anyone would want for themselves.” The fact that Washington had accepted Alexander’s numerous flaws on many, many occasions was left unsaid, but Alex understood the intent his mentor had.

“I’m sorry,” Alexander’s shoulders dropped and he sighed. “I’ll try harder to make nice with Jefferson. As much as it pains me to do so.”

Washington looked slightly more pleased with him and slapped his shoulder. “Good man.”

With that, Alexander was free to do what he pleased. He headed back to the cabin he begrudgingly shared with Jefferson and, seeing that it was empty, climbed up the dangerously shaky ladder to his bunk. After cocooning himself in the blanket he brought, he opened his backpack and delicately pulled out a sweatshirt. 

Inside the sweatshirt, of course, was his laptop and cellphone. Did Washington _really_ think that Alexander would be able to a) stop working and b) kick his Twitter addiction for a full 72 hours? It was laughable. 

Unfortunately for Alexander, he had no service so Twitter was out of the question. However, he still had access to his work files on his laptop so he got to work on that. He began to write up an excessively long case briefing that _technically_ didn’t need to be done for months but Alexander couldn’t stand being behind. 

(And if his idea of “behind” aligned more so with most people’s ideas of “on track” then so be it. Alexander wasn’t prepared to change.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments make my day :))
> 
> next up: more disastrous team-building exercises and for some godforsaken reason: arts and crafts???


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another chapter :)
> 
> enjoy!

Alexander hadn’t even been working for _that_ long when he heard an aggressive knock on his door. 

“ _S_ _hit._ ” He scrambled to hide his laptop, barely able to cover his lap where the computer was perched with his blanket before his door burst open. 

Washington. Of course. His mentor/boss gave him a stony look. 

“We’ve been waiting for you.”

What? Oh. It was 1:30pm. Y’know, half an hour past when he was supposed to go back to the stupid field for more ridiculous team bonding exercises. 

“I-I lost track of time,” Washington raised an eyebrow.

“Doing what exactly?”

Alexander panicked. “Um, masturbating?” _Masturbating? Why did he say that?_

Washington pinched the bridge of his nose and stretched out his other hand. “Give me the laptop.”

After a moment of reluctance, Alexander groaned and handed it down to him. 

“I told you you weren’t allowed to work this weekend.” 

“That’s a rather big ask, to be honest.”

Washington stuck the laptop under his arm and motioned for the younger man to follow him. Alexander did, however, he had forgotten that sitting idly in his lap was also his phone which smashed down to the floor as he stepped onto the ladder. 

“Fuck.”

He picked it up off the floor and, yep, it was shattered. This was just what Hamilton needed. 

To make things worse, Washington looked entertained by this. “Here.” Alexander put his broken phone in his hand and led the way to meet with the rest of the group. 

The sight Alexander was greeted with was worse than he could have imagined. Half of his colleagues stood wearing blindfolds and the other half directed them using vague vocal commands. 

Washington scanned the field before spotting his target. “Burr!” He called across the open space.

Burr, who was not blindfolded, looked in his direction. “Yes, sir?”

“I’d like for us to switch partners.”

Oh great, now he was gonna be stuck with Burr the whole time. 

“Scratch that, how about you come over here with me and Alexander,” Alexander felt a firm hand on his shoulder, “goes with… your partner.” 

Alexander looked over and, of fucking course, it was Jefferson. Jefferson wore a shocked expression on his face and Alex rolled his eyes. At this point, it was predictable. It was also highly embarrassing. He felt like a child being watched over by a pushy parent who felt an inane need to ensure their kid gets along with everyone. 

“Sir,” Alexander turned to Washington. “I do not enjoy being strong-armed into spending time with Jefferson. It’s humiliating.”

Washington didn’t respond and Jefferson stomped over, an obnoxiously bright pink blindfold in hand.

“Not it!” Hamilton quickly said as he held a finger up to the tip of his nose. Jefferson rolled his eyes.

“Fine, whatever, I’ll wear the stupid blindfold.”

Hamilton nodded smugly in victory and watched as Jefferson tied the blindfold over his eyes. He crossed his arms, waiting for Hamilton to begin guiding him. 

“Good luck,” Washington and Burr left the two in favour of going literally anywhere else in the large field. 

“I guess, walk forward?”

Jefferson hesitantly followed his command.

“Just a reminder that if you want me to stop moving, you’re supposed to tell me.”

“Good to know,” Hamilton smirked. “I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to be talking.” Jefferson being forced to shut up sounded like the best part of this trip so far.

As Thomas continued to walk straight forward he felt a panic arise within him. “Hamilton, you better not be fucking with me. I feel like we’re getting quite close to the edge of the field, aren’t we?”

“It’s fine, Jefferson, don’t worry about it.”

“Hamilton!” Washington’s voice yelled out. “Don’t even think about it!”

Thomas stopped and ripped off the blindfold. His suspicions had been correct, they were nearly in the forest at this point.“That’s it. I’m done. Your turn.”

“What?” Jefferson couldn’t be serious. No way was Alexander going to let Thomas Jefferson guide him around a field.

Especially considering what Alexander had just done during his turn. The blindfold was suddenly pulled over his eyes and tied in a sturdy knot behind his head. Jefferson’s hands gently bumped him as they did so and Alexander’s breath caught in his throat. He swallowed.

“I hate this.”

“Good,” Jefferson said before beginning to give Alexander instructions as to where to go. 

It started off fine, Alexander supposed. 

It did not end as such.

It ended with Alexander’s face colliding with something cold and hard and falling to the ground. The pain spread over his cheek and he could feel blood drip from his nose. 

“What the fuck, Jefferson?”

He pulled the blindfold off of his face and looked up to see the flagpole in front of him. It mocked him with its unwavering glory as he lay defeated in front of it. 

“I wasn’t paying attention, I _deeply_ apologize.”

Burr and Washington hurried over to where Alexander lay, pinching his bleeding nose. 

Burr offered him a hand up, but Alexander ignored it. With some significant effort, he pushed himself off of the ground with the hand not clutching his nose.

“Jefferson, you’re a terrible person.”

Did Jefferson look… hurt? No. Whatever. Even if he did, Alexander didn’t care.

“Fuck this. Fuck all of this,” Alexander waved his free hand around and turned on his heel. He headed towards the forest unthinking. The blood from his nose bleed steadily dripped onto the ground, leaving a trail of red dots behind him. 

He could hear Washington’s familiar footsteps following behind him but didn’t say anything to the man. 

Alexander kept walking until the bleeding had subsided. His nose felt crusty which was disgusting, but he didn’t care enough to do anything about it. He finally stopped, turning around to look at his boss. 

“Why did you follow me?” He asked carefully. 

“Alexander, you know that I care about you. That, and you hit your head pretty hard. I didn’t want you concussed and alone in the middle of the woods,” Washington said with a hint of sheepishness in his voice. 

“My head doesn’t even hurt, it’s fine,” Alexander twitched as his head throbbed with pain.

Washington obviously didn’t believe him, but chose not to press it.

“C’mon son, we have another activity awaiting us at camp.”

“What now?”

“Just some creative endeavours.”

“What, like arts and crafts?” Alexander joked but Washington didn’t respond. “It’s not actually arts and crafts, is it?” 

“It was that or archery, and believe it or not, I didn’t want an actual homicide on my hands.” 

The incredibly childish arts and crafts spread that was set up in the dining hall made Alexander light-headed. (It may have also been due to him hitting the flagpole, but that was irrelevant.) Craft paper, paints, and colouring pencils were scattered across the table and his colleagues awkwardly sat there using them.

“Nice of you to join us!” The camp manager - who by this point had identified herself as Betsy - grinned at Alexander and Washington. “We’re expressing how we want the working environment to be through the medium of visual art. Take a seat.”

Alexander plopped down on the bench and grimaced. He grabbed a stack of the art paper and regular pencil and got to work. 

Off the top of his head, he could remember enough about the case he had previously been working on to draft up an impressive amount of notes. Alexander Hamilton was not one to waste time. If Washington noticed the lawyer’s alternative activity, he didn’t comment.

Thomas, however, had noticed. He had seen his boss guide his rival into the dining hall moments before. Hamilton was paler than usual and had the dried remnants of blood smeared under his nose. Thomas felt a wave of guilt and looked away from the man.

That was, until Hamilton sat down on the other end of his table. He was not following the instructions - as per usual - and instead seemed to be writing something.

Thomas had never noticed how long Hamilton’s eyelashes were until now, as his rival looked downwards at his paper and scribbled away. 

“Tom?”

Thomas was drawn out of his thoughts and turned to James. Though James always looked unimpressed, he looked especially so as he raised his eyebrows at Thomas.

“Yes?”

“I’ve been trying to tell you that your elbow is in my paint.”

Thomas looked down and cursed. The sleeve of his purple jacket now had an obnoxious lime green smeared across it. 

Burr, who sat across from him, chuckled under his breath and Thomas glared. 

Man, he hated it here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! next chapter will likely be up tomorrow.
> 
> thanks for the comments on the last chapter! they're very encouraging to read while i'm writing <3
> 
> next up: first night at the camp and washington has an idea of how to solve the alex-thomas rift


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello, hello, hello! well if it isn't another chapter. next one should be up tomorrow :)
> 
> thank you to everyone who has commented thus far, and to those of you who have mentioned my speedy upload speed: posting a chapter a day is DEFINITELY a first for me lol i usually end up procrastinating for months between chapters.
> 
> enjoy!

Dinner had gone surprisingly well. Probably because Alexander and Thomas weren’t seated next to each other, but that’s besides the point. There had barely been any arguing at all. For a company dinner, that was impressive. Washington still had flashbacks to the Christmas Eve dinner party he and Martha had hosted years ago for some of his staff when the political talk had gone too far and Alexander had threatened to stab Thomas. After that, he vowed never to host anything in his own home again for the sake of his sanity. 

Though he’d never really expected Thomas and Alexander to suddenly get along overnight, Washington was disappointed with just how badly the day had gone. The two men had clearly made no effort to see eye-to-eye on anything and managed instead to use the activities to insult and physically assault each other. Washington needed to do something more.

When Thomas returned to his and Hamilton’s shared cabin, the other man was already in bed. He was wearing a navy Columbia Law hoodie and was curled up in his blanket. He was reading a thick book on economic policy that looked boring as hell to Thomas. 

Thomas opened his own bag to find his pajamas. “Is there anywhere to change?” He asked Hamilton. 

“Dunno,” was the only reply he got. 

Thomas debated whether or not to walk all the way back to the bathrooms where he had come from in order to change or to just suck it up and change in front of Hamilton. Imagining himself walking alone through the forest in the dark helped him to make up his mind.

“Don’t look at me,” he glanced in Hamilton’s direction. Hamilton didn’t respond. Thomas quickly stripped out of his day clothes into his pajamas. When he turned around he swore he could see Hamilton’s eyes quickly move from him back to the page of his book. 

He scowled but didn’t comment on it. Thomas crawled under his own covers and stared up at the wooden frame above his head. The signatures of hundreds of people - young campers - there before him were scribbled and scratched into the bunk above him. He read them absent-mindedly until his eyes fell upon one in particular.

_ T + A 4eva ‘98 _

He wondered who T and A were and if they really were “4eva.” Though he doubted that they were, Thomas smiled slightly, tracing the writing with his finger.

“Whatcha doing down there?” A disembodied voice asked and Thomas pulled his finger away as if he’d been burnt. 

“None of your business.”

“Ew, what is  _ that  _ supposed to mean?”

Thomas rolled his eyes. “I thought you were reading.”

“I was. I finished it.”

“What? How? That book was huge.”

“So?” Hamilton poked his head over the side of the bunk and looked at Jefferson.

Thomas clutched his blanket and said nothing.

“I’m bored.”

“Of course you are, Hamilton.”

“Isn’t this the part of summer camp where we’re supposed to gossip and tell ghost stories and shit?”

Thomas frowned. “What?”

“Or is that just what the American media has told me happens now?” Hamilton continued. “I never went to summer camp or anything. We didn’t have anything quite like this in St. Croix and by the time I came to America I was too old for that sort of thing. And too broke, even if I was young enough to go.”

“I never went to summer camp either,” Thomas found himself saying quietly.

“No? I would’ve thought you had the money for it. Eliza told me that the Schuyler’s used to come to this camp every summer.”

“It wasn’t about the money, Hamilton. I was a very anxious child, I didn’t want to leave my mother.”

Hamilton snorted and Thomas rolled over to turn away from him.

“I don’t know why I told you that.”

There was silence for a brief moment before Hamilton broke it again. 

“Thomas?”

At the sound of his first name coming from Hamilton’s mouth, Thomas gawked. He’d never called him that before.

“What?”

“I’m sorry.”

What was he apologizing for now? Hitting him earlier? Being an insufferable prick? Laughing at him right then? Thomas didn’t know. Maybe Hamilton didn’t know either.

“Goodnight,” Hamilton added and Thomas let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in.

“Goodnight, Alexander.”

The next morning couldn’t come soon enough. Alexander couldn’t sleep without the noise of the city, he’d grown so used to it. He stared at the ceiling and replayed the day over in his head. Staring at the ceiling got boring after a few hours, so Alexander crept down his ladder and began pacing in circles around the cabin. He thought Jefferson was asleep, but was apparently incorrect by the other man’s voice interrupting his 3am thinking. 

“Oh my god, Hamilton, go the fuck to sleep,” he groaned.

“Can’t sleep.”

“Well, your pacing is obnoxious. Lie down.”

“Don’t want to,” Alex continued walking across the admittedly squeaky floor. 

“Is this why your wife left you? Because you wouldn’t just sleep in bed like a normal person?” Thomas half-joked and the footsteps stopped.

“You don’t know shit, Jefferson,” Hamilton climbed back up the ladder and Thomas sighed.

Thomas also couldn’t sleep well, if he was being honest. His feet hung half a foot over the edge of the bunk bed and he was, for a moment, jealous of the short stature that he often made fun of Hamilton for having. But at least he wasn’t being annoying about his mild insomnia. He flipped onto his stomach, curled his feet in, and tried to fall asleep.

Shortly after the sun had risen, there was a sharp knock on the door. Alexander climbed down from his bunk and answered it. 

Washington, already dressed in a button-down shirt and khaki hiking pants, stood in front of him. Alexander looked down at his own appearance - his alumni hoodie and some boxers - and then back up at his boss. Washington didn’t seem to mind. 

“Is Jefferson up yet?” Washington asked. 

“No,” came a croaky voice from underneath the covers on the bottom bunk.

“Gentlemen, I know yesterday was not entirely a success for the two of you-”

“Understatement of the century,” Alexander mumbled.

“But,” Washington continued unfazed, “I have something special arranged for the three of us today.”

Washington smiled and Alexander’s heart dropped into his stomach.

“What is it?” Thomas sat up to ask before bumping his head on the bedframe and cursed under his breath. 

“The three of us will be taking a rowboat out onto the lake and doing some fishing.”

Jefferson groaned and flopped back onto the mattress. 

“Get dressed, boys, and meet me in the dining hall in ten minutes. We’ll need some breakfast before our big day.”

It was more like twenty minutes before Alexander and Thomas were both in the dining hall, grumbling as they ate their cereal. Alexander stood up suddenly.

“I need to make a phone call,” he announced.

“Alexander, it’s not even 7 yet, who’s going to pick up right now...” Alexander frowned at Washington’s admittedly valid point. 

“Then I’ll leave a voicemail,” Alexander began to walk towards the wall where the infamous landline was attached.

He dialled Eliza with ease, her number still in his muscle memory. On the third ring, she picked up. He knew she would. 

“Hello?” She sounded more awake than Alexander was by any means.

“Betsey,” he smiled at the sound of her voice.

“Alexander, hi. I wasn’t expecting to hear from you until Monday,” which really meant  _ why are you calling, what happened?  _

“I know. I’m calling off the dining hall’s landline,” Eliza laughed on the other side of the line. “Washington is bringing Thomas and I  _ fishing  _ today. As in, just the three of us. All day. Eliza, help me.”

“Thomas?”

“Jefferson, I mean.”

“I know what you meant, just… Well, nevermind.” 

“What?”

“Nothing. So, a fishing trip?”

Alexander whined in response.

“Who knows? You might actually enjoy it if you let yourself.”

Alexander didn’t appreciate how entertained Eliza sounded by the situation but maybe she had a point. Maybe. Washington cleared his throat at the young lawyer.

“It appears we’ve got to get going now.”

“Good luck, Alex.”

Thanks,” he grouched. “I’ll need it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter includes the reason i started this fic in the first place! which is: the time historically where washington took hamilton and jefferson on a fishing trip together directly after being told he needed to relax more by his doctor. some cite the trip as the origins of ham + tjeffs open feud against each other.
> 
> my rendition of it will definitely not be historically accurate lmao but anyway...
> 
> comments make me smile :))


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, thanks for reading!!

Thomas leaned over the side of the boat and heaved, his cereal from breakfast emptying itself from his stomach into the water.

“How are you seasick? It’s been like five minutes and we’re barely even moving,” Alexander rolled his eyes at the Virginian.

Washington rowed the boat with no help from either of the lawyers.

“Can we  _ please _ stop moving?” Jefferson weakly pleaded from the edge of the boat. 

“We’re almost there, Thomas.” Washington told him. A frustrated grunt was the response he got. 

Betsy, the camp manager, had told George that the best fishing spot was across the lake, away from the noise and activity of the camp. Now that they were actually rowing across, the lake seemed much bigger than it had looked from the shore. 

Washington stopped momentarily to roll his shoulders back a few times and stretch his neck. Even if he could feel his patience already wearing thin due to his wonderfully unhelpful employees, at least he was getting a good workout out of the excursion. Martha would be pleased to hear, she had been harassing him about exercise ever since his doctor had recommended that he lose a few pounds months prior. 

He wiped the sweat off of his forehead with his sleeve and smiled. It was a beautiful day despite the bickering happening vaguely in the background. 

Hamilton and Jefferson were at each other's throats immediately, to the surprise of no one. It started on the walk down to the dock and had lasted thus far. After years of experience with the two, Washington barely noticed it. It was white noise. 

“Hamilton, will you  _ stop _ moving?” Jefferson had his head back in the boat at this point but was still looking a little green around the gills.

“I’m not moving!” Alexander shot back while moving. 

George would never understand why the two lawyers felt the need to purposefully infuriate each other. He understood being disgruntled with opposing politics, that much was natural. But Thomas and Alexander were downright petty. It took all of Washington’s effort not to smack each of them on the back of the head and tell them to wise up. However, despite popular beliefs, he wasn’t their father and they were grown men. Grown men who should know better than to be so spiteful, but alas they were old enough to control their own behaviour. 

Washington sighed. “I think here is as good a place as any to stop.” He handed each lawyer a fishing rod and opened the tackle box. Hamilton reached across for a particular neon coral lure. Before he could, Jefferson - who was closer - snaked it as his own.

“Hey, I was going to use that!” 

“There’s plenty of lures, Alexander, it’s fine-” Washington tried to defuse the situation.

“Oh, this?” Jefferson smirked, holding up his rod. “Sorry.”

“You’re such a prick.”

“Well, you’re a pain in the ass.”

“You haven’t seen anything yet,” Hamilton grinned and rocked the boat back and forth.

“Stop!” Jefferson practically yelped. “Stop it! Alexander, you twat!”

“Boys, can’t you at least  _ try  _ to get along?” Washington intervened. 

“What? You gonna throw up again?” Alexander ignored his boss.

“Greasy cretin.”

“Southern inbred.”

“Annoying little trollop.”

“Jackass.”

“Alexander, switch places with me,” Washington snapped.

“What?”

“You heard me. I’m sitting in the middle. Switch with me.”

“Sucker.”

“ _ Thomas… _ ” Washington warned him.

“Yeah, suck my dick, Jefferson.”

“ _ Alexander. _ ”

“In your dreams,” Jefferson scoffed and Hamilton hit his shoulder.

Jefferson pushed him back and Hamilton was knocked back to the floor of the boat. 

“Fuck, now I’m all wet.” 

Jefferson smirked. Hamilton, who was never one to lose an argument quickly added: “Bet that’s the first time anyone’s ever said that to you.” 

“Y’know what, Hamilton-”

“That’s more than enough-” Washington leaned forward to place himself between the two men. Unfortunately for him, the boat rocked and knocked his balance. 

Alexander and Thomas were stunned into silence as their boss fell headfirst into the water. They glanced at each other and back at the water to where George was doggy-paddling back to the rowboat.

“Sir, I am so sorry-” Alexander began before Washington cut him off.

“Save it.”

Washington attempted to pull himself back up into the rowboat. The keyword being  _ attempted _ . Having Jefferson and Hamilton’s combined weight leaning so close to where Washington had pulled down in an effort to get back up had unforeseen consequences.

The two lawyers flew over the edge and the rowboat capsized. 

They spattered and cursed as the three men realized how fucked they were.

“Good thing you weren’t allowed your phones, huh?” 

“Was that intended to be a joke?” Jefferson and Hamilton stared blankly at their boss.

“Sir, is now really the time…”

“I get it, okay? Tough crowd,” Washington muttered.

Jefferson clinged onto the boat and Hamilton and Washington swam closer in order to flip it over.

“On three, we flip it,” Washington instructed.

“One. Two. Three!” The three men grabbed the boat as hard as they could. Instead of the boat ending right-way-up, it awkwardly sat on its side and rapidly filled with water.

“What do we do now?” Thomas panicked. “How do we flip it over with water in it?” 

“I think it’s too late for that.” Hamilton grimaced. “This would be the part in  _ Titanic  _ where the violinists keep playing as everyone’s screaming around them.”

“Thanks for that, Alexander. That’s very reassuring.”

“Gentlemen, it’s been a pleasure fishing with you tonight,” Hamilton quipped and Thomas managed a small smile despite the fact that he was forty percent sure they were about to die. 

“I’ll never let go, Alex.” The lawyers snorted and Washington frowned. So, they were allowed to make jokes but he wasn’t? Washington cleared his throat loudly.

“Sorry to interrupt whatever that was, but we need to start swimming to shore.”

“Right.”

“Sorry, sir.”

Luckily, they weren’t too far away from a rocky area they could walk out of. However, this placed them all the way across the rather large lake from the camp. They’d have to find an alternative way to get back.

The upside, Washington thought, was that the boys were exerting themselves too much by swimming in their heavy clothing to argue as they made their way to the shore.

As soon as they were on solid ground, they shedded their life-jackets. Thomas sat down immediately and closed his eyes, desperately trying not to feel so queasy. 

Hamilton pulled out his hair elastic and squeezed the water out of his hair before tying it back up. “So, how do we get back from here?” 

The lawyers turned to their boss, who stammered awkwardly. 

“I-I’m not quite sure.”

“And because of your rule, we have no way of contacting anyone,” Thomas supplied. “Not to mention, no supplies or food. Right, sir?”

“We didn’t even get to have lunch,” Alexander’s stomach grumbled loudly.

“That... would all be correct,” Washington sighed.

Thomas and Alexander glanced at each other.

“Well, fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next up: the boys (somehow) navigate their way back to camp??? let’s hope so. 
> 
> due to a large time commitment i might not be able to post the next chapter tomorrow, but if i don’t it’ll definitely be the day after!! sorry to keep you guys waiting!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the delay, everyone! i ended up somewhat spontaneously going away camping with some friends and wasn't able to update, then got a little caught up in work and prep for another trip i'm taking so ahhhh yeah.
> 
> to make up for the delay, this chapter is pretty long lol. 
> 
> tw: descriptions of panic attacks. also hurricane trauma + flashbacks. if either of those things would trigger you, feel free to skip over the second half of this chapter!

It felt like they had been walking forever. Alexander wondered if anyone was concerned for them back at the camp. Probably not, considering they weren’t supposed to be back until later anyway. 

“How much further do you think, sir?” Alexander glanced behind him to see their boss trailing behind Alexander and Jefferson, struggling to keep up with the two younger men.

“You ask as if his answer is gonna be any different than it was last time when you asked him five minutes ago,” Jefferson rolled his eyes. Alexander huffed, he wasn’t  _ necessarily  _ wrong. Unfortunately for Alexander, Washington agreed.

“Alexander, your persistence isn’t improving my ability to navigate or to guess when we’ll be back,” the older man puffed. “If we keep following the edge of the lake, eventually we should get back to the camp.”

“Fine,” Alexander grunted. He focused on his feet, walking one fast-paced step at a time over rocks and roots. “You know, this never would have even happened if Jefferson didn’t have such a weak stomach,” he turned to glare at the taller man who simply rolled his eyes in response.

“Maybe I wouldn’t have felt so seasick if you hadn’t rocked the boat like a sadistic asshole.”

“None of us would be at this camp at all had the both of you behaved like adults, so for once in your lives would you just  _ shut up _ ,” Washington finally snapped and the two lawyers halted in their steps, blinking at their boss blankly like children whose parents had just told them no for the first time. “Oh, don’t look at me like that. Keep walking, I’m getting a headache.” 

The men complied and for a while it was quiet. The ambiance of the forest flooded them and Alexander didn’t dare turn back to his rival or mentor again. Jefferson studied Alexander’s slumped shoulders, bunched up by his ears as he walked. Was Alexander always this tense? Jefferson frowned and shook the care out of his mind. 

With Hamilton being Hamilton, the quiet never lasted for long. It could have been ten minutes or two hours later, Jefferson couldn’t tell. 

Hamilton was rambling on about one of the cases they were working on at work, pointing out the flaws in every single one of Jefferson’s defences. Oddly, Thomas couldn’t be bothered to fight back.

“Are you even listening to me?” Hamilton whipped around to glare at his so-called rival and Thomas’ eyes widened as he stopped walking.

Washington, lost in his own thoughts, bumped into Thomas from behind sending him forward towards Hamilton. An arm unthinkingly wrapped around Alexander’s back to keep him from falling. Hamilton choked on his words for a moment before Thomas quickly dropped his arm. 

“You’re not arguing back at me.”

Thomas shrugged and Alexander narrowed his eyes at him.

His babbling continued as they began trekking through the forest again. Thomas’ gaze stuck upwards this time.

The forest was quite beautiful, Thomas thought. He’d always had a love for trees, spending all of his days during his childhood summers reading and writing in the grove at his family’s home. Something about being enclosed by them wasn’t claustrophobic, it was calming. The afternoon sun shone strongly through the bows, forcing Thomas to squint slightly as he admired them. 

Even if New York would never compare to his Virginia, inhaling the fresh air upstate was grounding for him. Thomas’ eyes wandered back down from the sky and was reminded of his home state one more time as he fixated on the outline of a small animal on the path far, far ahead of the men. A red fox.

Thomas put his hand gently over Hamilton’s mouth to silence him, his other hand resting on his shoulder. Hamilton jerked away for a second before noticing what Thomas was so focused on. He relaxed under his touch and Thomas’ hand slowly slipped away. Thomas’ palm brushed against Alexander’s lips as he did so and neither dared to breathe. Whether it was due to their contact or the animal blinking at them in the distance was uncertain. 

Thomas swallowed the lump of tightness in his throat. “A fox crossing your path is a sign of good luck,” he murmured. 

A second fox joined the first. Thomas could see Alexander smile softly in his peripheral vision and couldn’t help but do the same. He squeezed Hamilton’s shoulder, his thumb trailing over the hem of the man’s t-shirt. 

The foxes trotted off, disappearing into the depths of the woods.

“Beautiful,” Washington broke the silence. Thomas had honestly forgotten their boss was still with them. He broke away from Hamilton, straightening his back. 

It was maybe an hour later when the trio encountered their next obstacle.

They stared out at the river in front of them, the water surging toward the direction of the lake itself. 

“We’re going to have to cross it,” Hamilton said.

“Thank you, Captain Obvious.”

“I’m too old to be wading in, boys.”

As if to illustrate his point, Washington cracked his back and grimaced.

“We’ve come way too far to change directions and go the other way now,” Hamilton whined.

“I agree with Hamilton.”

“Well, let’s take a walk downstream and see if we can find a fallen tree or something.”

Thomas was the one to spot it: a sturdy maple that lay straight across the river, as if to conveniently guide them on their trek back to camp. 

“There’s our tree,” Washington gestured. He walked towards the base of it first and, to the immense surprise of his employees, began to walk across. 

“Sir, be careful!” Hamilton shouted at him.

“Son, there’s no need to worry about me,” Washington called back.

Jefferson and Hamilton shuffled onto the end of the log once Washington was further across. 

Washington was right about himself. He made it across without incident and waved over at his younger staff.

Unfortunately, it was not Washington that anyone needed to be worried about. 

Jefferson’s anxiety had always been an issue for him. He was a nervous speaker, a nervous flier, a nervous swimmer. It had been debilitating for him as a child and teenager, to an extent that required medication for the majority of his middle and high school years. He would catastrophize even the smallest things and, out of nowhere, his breathing would be out of his control and his vision would blur. Sounds distorted as his thoughts overtook his mind, nonsensically telling him he was in primal danger.

Luckily, Thomas was not having a full-fledged panic attack. However, the sound of the water coursing underneath him coupled with the fact that he was practically tight-roping across did send him into a bit of a state. He lost his balance slightly, waving his arms frantically in the air as he managed to steady his footing. Thomas breathed out in relief. His relief was short-lived as his next step made his loose said footing and his survival instinct kicked in. He grabbed what was closed to him. 

What was closest to him being Hamilton. 

“Hey! Let go, Jefferson!”

It was too late, as Thomas’ movement sent them both hurling towards the water. It was freezing on impact and they both struggled to keep their heads above as they were dragged upstream by the strong current. 

Thomas oddly felt less panicked once he was in the water. He had a goal now. Paddle and fight until there’s a way to get out. Whether it be a tree or a rock, something they could use to drag themselves out of the water and back onto to land. Worse case scenario: they wait it out until they get tossed back into the lake, in which case at least it would be easy to swim to the shore from.

Alexander, on the other hand, did not have the same tunnel vision as his co-worker. 

He could feel his heart beating out of his chest. The water used him as its playtoy, and he thrashed desperately against it. His limbs flailed as he sputtered out the water he had swallowed every time he was dipped back under. 

Typically a nonplussed swimmer, the conditions of the river transported Alexander back fifteen years prior. Back to St. Croix. 

Back to the hurricane. 

The water had flooded the streets and ripped through buildings with a ferocity. People caught in the sweeping movements of the water had very little chance of survival. Thus, when 17-year-old Alex Hamilton had been caught in it, he thought he was going to die. 

He almost did die. Ironically, what had almost cost him his life also saved it. He had been thrown against a splintered palm tree, knocking him unconscious and hitting him in the chest hard enough to puncture a lung and break ribs. His body had slumped over the tree as it continued to drift. It was this that prevented the boy from drowning. When he had regained consciousness, he was in a Red Cross Emergency Response Unit. He had been told it was a miracle he had survived. Alexander hadn’t thought so. 

An oak tree stuck out at the side of the river and it beaconed Thomas towards it. He began to fight his way against the rushing water to it, halting when he realized he was no longer in arms reach of Alexander.

“Hamilton, the tree!” 

Alexander was shivering. He was seventeen and he was wrapped in an aluminum emergency blanket. They asked him how old he was, where was his family, what was his name? 

A pair of strong arms wrapped around Hamilton’s waist and he was being pulled through the water by another, this time human, force. Alex didn’t have the energy to fight anymore. His body went limp and he could hear crying in the distance. He didn’t realize it was coming from himself. 

Thomas tried not to freak out at the sight of his rival sobbing as he half-heartedly kept his nose above the water. He wasn’t leaving Hamilton there to drown. He maneuvered the both of them to the oak, pulling himself up first and then scooping Hamilton out of the water to plop next to him. He was lighter than Thomas thought he would have been, in a way that approached concerning. 

Hamilton continued to cry as he clung to the tree he was lying face-down on. Thomas ran his hands through his soaking curls and blinked the water out of his eyes before looking at the smaller man’s shaking back. He wasn’t sure touching him would make things better or worse so he decided against it. He could hear Washington’s voice in the distance. 

“Alexander,” Thomas said softly. “Alex?”

The crying didn’t subside. 

_ Shit.  _ Maybe Washington would know what to do. If he could hurry up and get there already. 

“Alexander, can you hear me? It’s Thomas. Jefferson, I mean. You’re okay. We fell in the water, but you’re safe now, alright?”

Washington sure was taking his sweet time, Thomas frowned. 

“Alexander, can you sit up for me?” Yeah, that wasn’t going to happen. “Alex, I know it’s hard, but can you try to take a deep breath for me?” There was a slight shake of the head in response. That was slightly better, right?

“Alex, if you give me your hand, I can help you sit up.” Jefferson was not expecting that to work either. Despite this, when Thomas looked down he saw a shaky hand feeling around for another to hold. Thomas slowly reached out for it until Hamilton grasped it.

Alexander’s hand was freezing and clammy. As soon as Hamilton had a hold on him, he gripped Thomas’ hand hard. 

Though his breathing was still nowhere near back to normal, the crying had faded. Hamilton used his other hand to push his upper body off of the log’s bark. With Jefferson’s help, he sat down next to him. 

“Can you tell me three things you see right now?” 

Alexander’s eyes darted around. “Hands. Trees... Water,” he stiffened at the last word.

“That’s good. Now can you tell me three things you can hear?” 

“Water, again. Birds. My heart,” Hamilton became slightly more coherent.

“Good. Can you move three parts of your body?”

Alexander slowly moved his fingers, then his wrist, then his neck. 

His breathing had mellowed out and though he was still visibly under duress, he was much better.

Washington stood at the end of the oak tree and was there to assist Thomas as he guided Alex down to the solid ground. 

Without warning, Alexander threw himself at Thomas’ chest. Thomas hesitantly wrapped his arms around the man. They both stood there, soaking wet, Alexander grasping onto Thomas as if his life depended on it. 

Maybe it did. 

“Thomas?” Alexander spoke as they separated. Thomas glanced at him. “Isn’t seeing multiple foxes supposed to be an omen for disaster?”

Thomas snorted. “You may be right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so the river thing was gonna be typical thomas and alex being annoyed at each other stuff until i realised that for a hurricane survivor it would probably be pretty traumatic to get tossed around in a river, so um yeah that's where the angst came in lol.
> 
> also: yes, thomas jefferson was noted to be quite an anxious person, especially when it came to public speaking! he also definitely seemed to have some social anxiety based on several accounts (and was known to get seasick lmao.)
> 
> only two chapters left!! woah. up next: our favourite trio FINALLY get back to camp, just in time for some more wholesome campfire time and some less wholesome events after the campfire heh ;) basically, the boys finally (sort of) get their shit together maybe? 
> 
> i love reading your guys' comments sm :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok i lied there's actually STILL another two chapters (or rather another chapter plus an epilogue of sorts.)
> 
> sorry for the delay again, i got distracted with another jamilton idea i had and couldn't focus on this fic until i had written it. 
> 
> (if you'd like to read it, it's here lmao: [alive right now](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25684030))

The bright lights of the camp in the distance diffused over the evening sky of the forest. They had made it back despite the fact that it seemed like the universe itself was working against them. 

Alexander remained partially burrowed into Thomas’ chest as they stumbled up the path towards the cabins. He had been like this since the river and though Thomas would deny it he didn’t mind. Not at all. He had seen the look Washington gave them and chose to ignore it. 

Thomas squeezed Alexander’s shoulder. “I’m honestly quite surprised we all made it back in one piece.”

“I think that’s debatable,” Hamilton grumbled. 

Washington quietly laughed from behind them. 

“They’re over there!” A shout in the distance could be heard. 

A small group of their co-workers rushed over to the trio of men. 

“Good God, Thomas! Are you alright? You look terrible.” James grasped his shoulder firmly. Thomas, quite frankly, was not interested in knowing what about his appearance made the usually reticent James Madison react so strongly. 

“Thanks, Jemmy. Always a pleasure.”

After explaining what had happened (“ _ what do you mean the boat sank?” _ ) and reassuring their friends they were fine (“ _ really, Jemmy, it’s just a few scratches,” _ ) Jefferson and Hamilton made their way back to their cabin.

As soon as the door was shut, Thomas stripped off his wet shirt. He was too uncomfortable to care about Hamilton watching him again. Hamilton remained near the door, his eyes closed tight. 

“Alexander?” Thomas glanced over at him with more concern than he thought was possible when it came to Hamilton. “About earlier…”

“It’s fine, Jefferson,” the other man snapped. “Honestly, don’t worry about it.”

“Of all things you could have said in response, that’s up there among the most concerning,” Thomas crossed his arms over his bare chest. Alexander opened his eyes and frowned. 

“Why are you half-naked?”

“I was getting changed, you degenerate. Y’know, since we’re soaking wet and I don’t feel like getting pneumonia anytime soon.”

Alexander seemed to suddenly remember that, yes, he too was wet. 

“I suppose you have a point.”

Alexander crossed the cabin floor to rummage through his bag, pulling out a thick forest green sweater and some plaid pajama bottoms. Like Jefferson he was too exhausted to be embarrassed, stripping in the open without care.

Thomas didn’t mean to look. It was completely unintentional. But his eyes happened to drift over to Hamilton’s bare back. Droplets of water dripped off of his hair and rolled down his shoulders. The muscles flexed as he reached up to pull the sweater over his head. Thomas looked away.

“There’s supposed a campfire right about now,” Thomas said as he quickly took off the wet jeans that disgustingly clung to his legs. “It might be nice to warm up.”

Alexander responded with a noncommittal hum. 

“Would you want to go with me?” Thomas heard himself saying. If he had thought it through, he wouldn’t have phrased it like that. It wasn’t a date, for fuck’s sake, it was a work event. 

“Sure, I guess.”

Thomas smiled. “I’d like that.”

There was a pause. 

“Me too.”

There was blankets at the campfire, which Alexander couldn’t appreciate enough. Despite changing, he was still freezing. The sensation of the cold water lingered on his skin long after it was actually there.

When Thomas had grabbed one blanket for the two of them to share, Alexander didn’t comment on it. When he felt a pinky graze over his the side of his hand, Alexander didn’t mind. The pinky moved slowly, brushing over each finger until the pinky was really a palm covering the back of Alex’s hand.

Alexander’s hands were as cold as ice, Thomas thought as he held one underneath the blanket he had snatched. He rubbed the hand between both of his own, trying to warm it up as best as he could. When he felt he had done a satisfactory job, he moved onto the other. Hamilton’s cheeks were bright red by the time Thomas was done. 

Somehow, Thomas knew deep down it wasn’t solely due to the warmth of the fire on their faces. 

After sitting through Benjamin Franklin lead a prolonged sing-a-long as he played the guitar, Alexander was jittery. Whether it was due to the fact that he had just witnessed the senior partners at his law firm sing along to “Sweet Caroline” was up for debate. He glanced over at Thomas’ profile. The Virginian’s eyes were softer than Alexander had ever remembered them as being. 

Alexander followed the curve of his nose down to his lips with his eyes. He hesitated for a moment before leaning in close to the man’s ear. 

Glancing out at the circle, his co-workers all appeared appropriately distracted. Jefferson was distracted, but not for the same reasons. He had frozen solid at the faint feeling of Hamilton’s breath on the side of his neck. He didn’t dare move.

The fire had died down to just the embers, it had been decided ages ago they wouldn’t add another log. It was late. Late enough that it wouldn’t be too suspicious for certain members of the group to feel the need to retire to their cabin. 

“Thomas,” Alexander whispered. “I’d like to go to bed now.” 

Thomas swore he could feel his heart stop in his chest. He felt dizzy all of a sudden, as if the blood had rushed down out of his head (and though he wasn’t about to admit it, maybe it had.)

Thomas nodded jerkily.

He stood up, bringing Hamilton with him via their connected hands. Thomas quite nearly stumbled over his own feet due to his suddenness. “Hamilton and I will be going to bed,” he blurted out awkwardly.

All of his colleagues, including his superiors and his boss, stopped to look in their direction and Alexander pinched his thumb. Thomas yelped. 

“We’re tired..” He filled in. “After our slightly traumatic fishing trip, obviously.”

Most then understood without questioning and said their sincere goodnights to the men. James Madison quirked an eyebrow at Thomas from across the fire which Thomas promptly ignored. 

The walk from the firepit to their cabin was probably the most awkward experience Thomas had ever had with Hamilton which was… saying something. They both seemed to be unsure of how to continue. Thomas himself was still not positive that Hamilton had come to the same realisation that he had over the long weekend. It certainly seemed so, but he couldn’t really know until they got back. Thomas decided on the walk that he wouldn’t let them fall asleep without discussing it. Especially if nothing else ended up happening. 

When their cabin appeared in sight, Alexander felt the knot in the pit of his stomach tighten and flip. It was ridiculous to think that Thomas Jefferson had, in one weekend, gone from the person he’d disliked the most in the entire law firm (which was a considerable statement given that both Charles Lee and John Adams were also employed by the firm) to... something else. Alexander wasn’t quite sure what to label it as so he refrained from doing so, even if the label would only ever exist in his mind anyway. 

The men walked up to the door of the cabin, stepping so gently that they wouldn’t have woken up a sleeping baby. Alexander made the first move to open it, turning the handle with a significance he didn’t know how to place. 

They stepped inside.

Alexander pressed himself against Thomas, testing the waters out. His arms carefully wrapped around the man’s neck and Thomas instantly reciprocated. Before he could lean in, however, Thomas loudly cleared his throat.

“Alexander, I think we should talk about what happened today.”

An eye roll came in reply.

“I’m being serious.”

“I know you are. That’s why I rolled my eyes.”

Thomas let go of Alexander and sat down on the edge of his bunk, crouching over slightly so he wouldn’t bump his head on the bannister. He patted an empty spot beside him. Alexander sighed and reluctantly joined the taller man. 

“I don’t really want to get into it right now. Not yet, at least. All you really need to know is that before I moved to America there was a hurricane. It completely wiped out my town. I haven’t been the biggest fan of rushing water since.”

Thomas was surprised with the curt response. Not so much that it was curt, that was to be expected, but that there was an actual response at all. He expected Hamilton to dance around more but, no, the man was incredibly straightforward. 

“Thank you.”

Alexander scoffed. “What for?”

“For telling me,” he paused. “For being here.”

Alexander grabbed Thomas’ hands out of his lap. He kissed the knuckles of one gently.

If Alexander was being honest, he normally wouldn’t have been quite so upfront. However, he knew Jefferson wouldn’t drop it if he didn’t answer and Alexander was sexually frustrated. 

“I’m glad that I’m here,” Alex said with sincerity. “Now, hurry up and kiss me.”

Thomas was always one to oblige with such a request.

Despite having sat in front of a warm fire for hours, Alexander’s lips were as cold as his hands had been. Alexander grasped Thomas’ face hard, running his hands along the other man’s jaw and up to his cheekbones. 

Thomas leaned forward gradually until Hamilton was lying flat on his bed. 

Alexander hooked a leg behind Thomas’ back and brought the man’s hips closer to him. Thomas let out a small groan at the contact, breaking the kiss and leaning his forehead against Hamilton’s.

“Do you have a condom?” Alexander whispered as Thomas brushed a stray hair away from Alexander’s face.

Thomas raised an eyebrow. “No. Do you?”

“Surprisingly, I actually  _ wasn’t  _ planning on having sex during my law firm’s work retreat, so no, I do not.”

Thomas sat back up. “Shit.”

“We have to wake up at the asscrack of dawn to drive back to city anyway, so maybe it isn’t such a bad thing.”

“I guess,” Thomas sighed and shifted uncomfortably. 

Alexander ran a hand over his thigh. “We can still... help each other out. There  _ are  _ things that don’t require one.”

“I like the way you think, Hamilton.”

“I think that’s the first time you’ve ever said that.”

“Shut up,” Thomas said as he crashed their lips together once again.   
  


Alexander surprised Thomas by curling up onto his chest when they were finished instead of returning to his own bunk. (Alexander probably couldn’t have made his legs climb up the ladder of the bunk if he tried.)

Thomas hummed happily and held him close. He wouldn’t let go until Alexander wanted him to. If Alexander wanted him to. 

“I never thought I’d say this, but you’re quite good at that, Jefferson,” Alexander mumbled sleepily. 

“Tom.”

“What?”

“Call me Tom.”

“M’kay,” Alexander smiled against Thomas’ chest. “I don’t think I ever really hated you, by the way.”

Thomas snorted. “Gee, thanks.”

“You can be obnoxious, obviously, but I don’t think I ever hated you. At least, I definitely don’t know.”

“I don’t hate you either.”

“That’s nice to know.”

Crickets chirped loudly outside of the cabin as they stayed pressed against one another. Content.

“Hey, Thomas?”

“Yes?”

“D’you have anything planned for when we get back to the city?”

Thomas opened his eyes to glance down at Alexander, or rather the mop of hair hiding the face that was pressed against his sternum. The city made things real. The city contained their actual lives.

“No. I don’t.”

“Good, because I haven’t had a decent coffee this whole weekend and I believe you owe me one for almost drowning me today.”

Thomas laughed and kissed Alexander’s forehead.

“I think it’s you who owes me a coffee for saving your life.”

“No, if anything you owe me one for making Washington flip the boat earlier.”

“Alexander, that was entirely your fault.”

And on it went. The men would probably never not argue. Thomas had to acknowledge that arguing while Hamilton lay half-conscious in his arms in a tiny bunk-bed in the middle of the forest was far superior to the screaming matches that plagued their days in the office prior to the trip. If arguing with Hamilton could always be like how it was in the bunk-bed, then maybe things wouldn’t be so bad after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed this chapter! 
> 
> historical fun fact: ben franklin DID play the guitar lol. he also played the violin, cello, harp, viola, harpsichord, bells, and glass armonica according to the internet. also george washington played the flute which is... hilarious. and tjeffs played the violin as most know (and the cello.)
> 
> as always, comment if you want! i love reading them :)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhhh, only the epilogue left now! i've almost finished writing it and i'll be posting it tomorrow. 
> 
> thanks for everyone who has commented/left kudos throughout this fic :))

Thomas woke up with a cramp in his shoulder and a heavy weight on his chest. It took him a languid moment to realize that both of those were due to Hamilton, who seemingly hadn’t moved since the night before.

 _Last night_ , Thomas felt wonderfully dizzy at the thought. Hamilton lay against him as proof it had happened. It hadn’t been some elaborate wet dream Thomas concocted in his sick imagination. Hamilton was here, disheveled and unclothed. 

They were warm under Thomas’ covers (for the most part, at least - Thomas was still too tall for the child’s bunk and his feet still stuck out the end.) Thomas ran a hand through Alexander’s hair. It had almost entirely fallen out of its elastic, splaying across Thomas’ chest and tickling him softly whenever he or Alexander shifted. He carefully pulled the elastic fully out, putting it on his wrist so to not lose it when Alexander inevitably wondered where it was. Much better. Thomas could have fallen back to sleep had it not been for the ridiculously loud knock on the cabin door.

Alexander remained a deadweight, but Thomas was completely alert. His breath hitched in his throat as he prayed that the door wouldn’t open. Someone had to answer it, right? However, Thomas was the only one momentarily capable of doing so and he also a naked co-worker in his bed that could _not_ be spotted by their boss. 

“Boys! Open up! We’re already running late! It’s time to go!”

At Washington’s booming voice, Thomas gently shook Alexander awake. 

He groaned. “Tommy, what is it?” He mumbled and Thomas shushed him with a finger to his lips. Alexander frowned, as even half-asleep and curled up naked against him, he would never be pleased with Thomas Jefferson telling him to be quiet.

“What?” He repeated, slightly more awake now. 

“We’ll be just a minute, sir!” Thomas shouted out in response to both his boss and his co-worker-turned-lover. 

Alexander understood his meaning at once and his eyes widened dramatically. “Yes, sir, we’re all fine in here! Be out in five!” 

Thomas rolled his eyes; of course, the man had to make it sound as suspicious as possible. 

“You better be!”

Both of them got out of the cramped bed and Hamilton snatched the blanket to cover himself with as soon as he glanced down and consciously realized he was naked. 

“I’ve already seen you, there’s no need to cover up.”

Alexander said nothing, silently packing his things and clutching the blanket around his waist. Thomas sighed. He didn’t mean for it to be loud or anything, but clearly it was as it elicited a response from the shorter man.

“I know, Thomas,” he said softly. Thomas walked the few steps separating him and Alexander and put his arms loosely around his neck.

He slowly kissed him for the first time that morning, Alexander’s eyes fluttering shut in response. After a moment, they broke apart and Thomas pecked him decisively. 

They didn’t touch each other as they walked to the bus nor did they as they boarded it. The majority of their colleagues looked half-asleep themselves, no one was pleased about having to leave so early.

The sky was still dark, making the windows of the bus appear pitch black from the inside. The fluorescent lights lining each row seats made the contrast that much more apparent.

Due to their late start, Alexander and Thomas had limited options when it came to seats. It was either sit in the very front or sit in the middle right across from Charles Lee. They glanced at each other and sat down in the front. Alexander had closed his eyes, resting his head carelessly against Thomas’ shoulder. Thomas closed his eyes for a moment too.

It was then that he realized he was missing something from the cabin. He stood up and Alexander made a noise of protest. 

“Do you have a pen?” Thomas asked him. 

“What?”

“Do you have a pen?”

“Sure, I guess,” Alexander slouched over to grab his bag from under his seat and with some minor annoyance dug through it until he provided Thomas with a black ballpoint pen. 

“I’ll be right back,” he told Alexander and turned around to spot his boss. “Mr. Washington, I forgot something in the cabin, I’ll be right back!”

He didn’t stick around to hear Washington’s response. Washington grumbled under his breath.

Alexander watched as Thomas’ dark figure sprinted out of sight. He closed his eyes again. 

When he opened them again, it was significantly brighter out. The bus was moving, trees blurring together as they whipped past them (the tell-tale sign they weren’t near the city yet.)

Thomas was slumped against him, as asleep as Hamilton had been minutes before. The man was undeniably attractive, even as he snored quietly beside him. Alexander thought that perhaps Thomas was even more so than usual, because Alexander wasn’t able to argue with him. Alexander chuckled to himself. Thomas shifted slightly and Alexander was afraid he had woken him up.

He hadn’t. Alexander sighed in relief. He stretched his arms out. 

He should really call Betsey. She’d probably think the whole ordeal was hilarious. Or shocking. Or maybe she’d known before Alexander had that there was something between him and Thomas. That passion came in many forms and that hate was closer to love and lust than it was to disinterest.

Eliza always had been wiser than him. 

Alexander could feel Washington’s eyes on him before he turned around to look at his boss. 

Washington smiled at him and Alex was suddenly hyper-aware of the lump of a man leaning against him. Washington gave him a nod. 

He wasn’t expecting Alexander and Thomas to behave so… intimately after the retreat, but Washington would happily take whatever was going on between the co-workers now over how it had been before. He could only hope that it would ease the tension around the firm. He never minded the men arguing, as exhausting as it sometimes could be, but less violence and personal slander would be nice to return to. 

He felt quite proud of himself for the idea of the retreat. It certainly hadn’t gone as planned but sometimes things have to go awry in order to get the desired outcome. 

And if Washington had done so by sacrificing a rowboat and sabotaging a fishing trip with his orchestrated clumsiness, well, Thomas and Alexander didn’t have to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> washington really said 'let me drown myself so hamilton and jefferson stfu' huh 
> 
> anyway hope you enjoyed this chapter! next up: the epilogue! it will have a pretty significant time jump ;)
> 
> as always, i love reading your guys' comments, they really inspire me to keep writing my fics so thank you again :)
> 
> speaking of writing fics, i have a few ideas that i want to start but i'm not sure which one to do first so ahhh... currently debating between a 'washington is hamilton's dad' fic (canon era) or a modern jamilton fic based around the idea that jefferson and hamilton are both recent widowers (depressing ik lmao.) if you have an opinion on which one (or anything else you'd like to see), let me know in the comments lol


	9. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> last chapter :')

“Philip? Philip, get back here!” Philip could hear his father call after him but paid no attention as he slammed the car door behind him and bolted. “Alexander, your son is being a pain in the ass.”

“How come he’s _my_ son when he’s bouncing off the walls and _your_ son when he reads in the library all day?” Alexander huffed.

Thomas quirked an eyebrow at him and Alexander frowned. Maybe Thomas had a point there.

“Whatever.”

“Daddy, can I get out now?” A small voice coming from the backseat interrupted them.

Thomas looked in the rearview mirror at the girl. “Lucy Elizabeth, it’s ‘Daddy _may_ I get out now?’ not _can_. We know you _can_ get out.” Alexander rolled his eyes. 

“Daddy, _may_ I get out now?” The girl mimicked the same tone her father used.

“Yes, you may,” Thomas obliged. 

Thomas unbuckled his seatbelt, stepping out of the car and breathing in the clean air of the once familiar forest. Alexander followed suit, opening the backseat and letting his daughter slide out. She immediately chased after her brother, shouting at him to slow down. 

Like their parents, Lucy and Philip could be considered opposites. Where Lucy was reticent, Philip was boisterous. Lucy had Thomas’ curls and telling smile; Philip had Alexander’s pleading eyes and squish-able cheeks (Alexander resented that when Thomas would comment on it.) Lucy excelled at math and Philip was a natural poet. 

Despite their differences, the nine-year-olds were not without similarity, of course. They were fraternal twins, after all. Both were musically talented (Lucy taking after Thomas with the violin, while Philip learnt piano from his Aunt Eliza.) Both were multilingual before the age of three, switching between French, Spanish, and English effortlessly. Both had a feisty side and the two would squabble with the same intensity as their parents. 

Thomas and Alexander watched as the kids rushed off, probably to locate their cabins and introduce themselves to their potential new friends. After Theodosia Burr had gone to the camp the previous summer, the twins had begged their fathers until they finally gave in. Alexander and Thomas hadn’t been back to the camp since that first time nearly fifteen years ago. It was odd to be back and even odder to be back with their _children_. Standing in the same spot they had so many years before was proof that things had changed, that time had passed.

Thomas grabbed his husband’s hand and they strolled down the path.

“I’m not sure I like being back here,” Alexander sighed. 

“Why not?”

Alexander shrugged. “I guess I just miss Washington.”

Thomas squeezed his hand. 

“Me too.” 

They were quiet for a moment, the sounds of leaves and sticks crunching underfoot paired with children’s laughter in the distance. Thomas bumped his shoulder against Alex’s. 

“We could always visit him and Martha in Virginia. It’s been a while.”

“That we could,” Alex smiled. “When the kids get back?”

“When the kids get back,” Thomas nodded.

When _Washington & Adams _ became _Adams & Lee _ after Washington’s retirement, Alexander and Thomas knew they needed to make their own exit from the firm. Thus, _Jefferson, Hamilton, & Burr _was formed. (The amount of arguments that were had over whose name went first was astronomical but neither Thomas nor Alex liked to remember that. Burr didn’t care where his name was, as long as it was in the title.) 

“Daddy!” Philip called out.

“Yes?” Both men answered. 

“Will you come see my cabin?”

“Of course, Pip!” Alexander called back. “Show us the way.”

They followed their boy down the rest of the path. Philip raced in the cabin’s door and squealed. “I want top bunk!” 

Lucy held onto Alexander’s hand. Her cabin was on the other side of the camp but she was in no hurry to get there. She knew she was staying with Theo and that was exciting enough for her.

Alexander gave Thomas a _look_ as they entered the room. It was still as stuffy as it was a decade and a half prior.

“He’s in _our_ cabin. _What are_ the chances of that?” Alexander looked at Thomas accusingly. Thomas shrugged nonchalantly.

“Strange coincidence.”

“Oh, I’m sure.”

“Phil, Lucy, c’mere.” Alexander watched Thomas stride across the cabin, pointing to the bunk he had once slept on. Thomas sat down and Lucy and Philip climbed up to join him with the rowdy inelegance that only small children possess. 

Alexander felt his face heat up as he remembered what _else_ they had once done in the bunk. 

“Alex, you too.”

“Huh?”

“I have something to show you, love.”

The four of them huddled onto the tiny mattress. Thomas pointed the faint writing out with a twinkle in his eyes. The black sharpie of the original inscription was revised in scratchy blue pen.

 **_T_ ** _J_ ** _\+ A_ ** _H_ **_4eva_ ** **_‘ ~~98~~ _ ** ****

“There it is.”

“What is it?” Lucy asked, looking up. 

“I wrote it for your Daddy when we stayed here.”

“Neat,” Philip bounced up and down then instantly lost interest.

The two children slid off the bed, proceeding to argue about something of little importance while their parents remained staring at the small notation that said to the world _we were here; we were here together_. 

“When did you do that?” Alexander whispered.

“I forgot something in the room, remember?”

Alexander laughed. “That’s what my ballpoint pen was for?”

“Yep,” Thomas glanced at the bickering children before closing the distance between him and his husband. Alexander sighed happily into the kiss.

Completely distracted just mere seconds before, the children instantly detected their parents’ affection and began to make child-appropriate responses consisting of _ewwww gross._

Thomas and Alexander chuckled to themselves as Philip and Lucy gave their fathers matching exasperated looks. If the twins were united on any one front, it was in disgust against their parents’ PDA. 

The kids scurried off once again, leaving Thomas and Alexander alone. 

“I think we just inadvertently taught our children that vandalism is okay,” Alexander smirked.

“Oh, please no.”

“Maybe they’ll add their own names to the camp this summer.”

As much as Thomas disliked the idea of his babies breaking the rules in any form, it was sort of sweet to imagine it. It was satisfyingly full-circle.

“Maybe… As long as there isn’t any ‘4eva’ or anything on there. They’re too young to be ‘dating’ or anything like that,” Thomas scowled at the very thought. Alexander felt bad for whoever would one day date their Lucy. Between him and Thomas, her future dates were doomed. (Alexander also had a strong feeling that with Philip the reverse might be true.)

“Tom,” Alexander stroked his cheek.

“Yes, darlin’?” 

“I’m happy we drove Washington insane enough to bring us here.”

“I am too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love jamilton as parents so i had to include it lmao (also if you briefly thought i killed off washington i'm sorry, i enjoy dramatics)
> 
> thank you SO so much for all the support on this fic, i've loved reading all of your comments and everything. it really inspires me to be quick with updating since i know there are people who actually want to keep reading skldjflskdjf
> 
> i'll have more for this fandom soon (probably within the next few days since i have nothing better to do) and if you have any prompts/ideas for any other fics you'd be interested in, let me know in the comments!! i'm very open to suggestions :)
> 
> in the meantime, here's a jamilton one-shot i wrote recently if you want to check it out: [alive right now](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25684030)


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